Memory Eternal

Ⲓ was sixteen when mom departed to be with the Lord (tomorrow marks eleven years). I would say one of the most trying aspects of losing an immediate family member at such a young age is not being old enough to truly understand their identity — their upbringing, their character, their passion, those things that actually make them tick. Though I was able to develop a more mature and loving relationship with mom in the last few years of her life, there still remain so many questions regarding who she was and why, her strengths, her weaknesses, her opinions, her guidance, her service, and even more so how all of the answers to the ambiguities impacted my life and my person.

Today, as we do every year, our friends and family — whom we love dearly and are ever-indebted to— gathered around the table of the Lord to celebrate mom, both her life on earth and in His kingdom. Not even a pandemic hindered the remembrance of this remarkable woman (don’t worry, all necessary precautions were taken), and yet there were still so many puzzle pieces that I wished to put together. On my way home from the liturgy, I expressed this exact sentiment to one of my friends, that I continue to glean whatever information I can about her from everyone else’s experiences, from their stories, their comments, even from their facial expressions at the mention of her name. Oftentimes, I hear the words “Mama kanit gameela” which translates to, “Mom was beautiful”, followed by, “fe kol haga”, meaning, “in everything”.

When I entered my home, I saw nearly a hundred, never before seen, photos of her — her brother and sister found them and khalo brought them over for us— from her childhood in Egypt to her new life in America. I sat down quickly, racing through as many photos as possible trying to grasp something more of her. And then this one picture caught my undivided attention and stopped my rampant search quite abruptly because the rest of the photos didn’t seem to matter. In the center of the photo, she’s seen smiling so radiantly, it was almost as if she was glowing. That’s what I remember the most about mom — her endless laughter and bright smile. I don’t think I could ever compare but, from what I hear from my friends, somehow I’ve kept that smile and love of laughter. If that is all that I keep, it would be sufficient for me, because in that smile I see everything that I will ever need to know. She truly is “gameela”.

I am endlessly grateful and proud to be her son.

May you always look upon us and smile, Mom, and let your memory be my determination to seek the kingdom of God. Pray for me.